


Yogistuck

by TittySprinkles



Series: LAstuck [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Attempted mugging, F/F, Loving Marriage, Stupid Pet Names, Yoga, california au, jake's muscles, kanaya is a pakistani boutique owner, lentil soup, posing for instagram, rose is a new age blogger, so many stupid pet names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 20:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19047751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TittySprinkles/pseuds/TittySprinkles
Summary: Kanaya and Rose are a happily married couple living in manhattan beach, California. After a lovely dinner of lentil soup and flatbread courtesy of Kanaya, the two ladies sit down to watch the news. It does not turn out to be the regularly scheduled programming.





	Yogistuck

Rose sits on a yoga mat on the back porch of her Manhattan Beach beach house. It’s early evening, the sun is touching the ocean. It’s golden hour baby. 

Rose knows exactly what that means. She needs a sick photo for her instagram to keep up her engagement. She gets into an upside down bendy position and calls for her wife. 

“Kanaya! Come here please,” she shouts hoarsely. 

“Coming darling!”

Rose and Kanaya have been married for two years now. In that span of time, moments like these have been plentiful. 

“Yes, Rose? What is it?” Kanaya rounds the corner of the sliding glass doors that open to the patio, and realizes indeed what it is. 

“Could you get my camera and take a picture of me, sunshine?” 

“Of course, my summer breeze.” Kanaya saunters gracefully to the coffee table in the living room where the camera is sitting. She tiptoes over to the doorway and lowers into a photographer’s squat to take the photo. She takes many. 

“Kanaya, sweet orange blossom, morning star? Are you going to be done soon? I’m about to fall over” Rose’s voice comes out breathless and strangled. She’s breathing heavily with the effort of keeping herself upright. Or, well, upside down. 

“All done.” As soon as the words leave Kanaya’s mouth, Rose lowers herself down on the mat. Her head is turned towards Kanaya with her arms spread out and her knees up. Kanaya takes another photo. When Rose smiles, she takes another. 

“Are you finished with your session? I’m almost finished cooking dinner.”

“Well now I am.” Kanaya helps Rose to her feet and gives her a quick, sweet kiss. Rose kisses her forehead. This is not such a simple task, since Kanaya is much taller than Rose. However, she bows down slightly to meet it, since this is a usual occurrence. Something about the third eye, or something. Kanaya returns the gesture. 

Rose hops up onto one of the bar stools next to the kitchen island. She tries to guess what Kanaya is cooking, but she can’t see much from where she’s sitting. 

“What’s for dinner, honeybee?”

“Lentil soup and flatbread.”

“Wonderful! I always look forward to nourishing my body with food that was made with your love, poppyseed.” Kanaya turns around to stick her tongue out at Rose before going back to her bread. 

“I always look forward to connecting with you through nutritional art. It makes me feel close to you.”

“It makes me feel close to you as well.” Rose can see the side of a smile gracing her wife’s face, and she smiles as well. She loves Kanaya so much, she could write a book about it. But she already did that. Perhaps her next self help bestseller can be about cooking with your partner? That would be fun. 

The clock on the stove says 6:00 p.m. In jittery red numbers. It’s time for Rose’s daily superfood boost. She gets up and retrieves her supplements from the vitamin cabinet. But there’s one missing. 

“Dearest dandelion, have you seen my spirulina?”

“No lovely andromeda, I haven’t. Maybe you should check the back porch? You took some things out there yesterday.”

“Thank you, I’ll check.” The spirulina was, in fact, on the back porch. Or rather, underneath it. Rose has absolutely no idea how it got there. She wants to wonder and be puzzled over it, but instead she practices gratitude. “I am grateful to have found my spirulina, even though it was not somewhere that made any sense.”

After gagging on her superfood cocktail and finally choking it down, she sets the table for dinner. Her and Kanaya sit across from each other so they can gaze soulfully into each other’s eyes over dinner. 

“How was your day at the boutique today, cactus flower?” Rose asks around a mouthful of soup. Sometimes, manners take a back seat to one’s free expression of their true self. 

“It was good. I exceeded my sales quota for the day, but it didn’t get too busy either. How was your day?”

“My day was wonderful. I woke up and made myself a smoothie bowl, and then I made a blog post. I took a walk on the beach in the afternoon and saw a little crab. It was such a little dear. I love crabs.”

“Oh I know you do, my sweet persimmon.”

After dinner, Rose and Kanaya wash the dishes together and put on the local news. Kanaya likes to know what was happening in the community, and Rose likes to critique anything and everything about the program for her own entertainment. It’s a great way to wind down the day. It ends just in time for them to get ready for bed, which is usually around 8pm. 

The story being reported on at the moment is about a farmers market’s opening day. Rose excuses herself to use the little yogi’s room. She figures that Kanaya can catch her up on the details when she gets back. 

Meanwhile, the news story changes. Kanaya sits in bewildered puzzlement as the scene plays out before her. 

Street cam footage in venice beach shows an attempted mugging. A man in a grey hoodie approaches a woman on a street corner and grabs her purse. While they play tug of war, a man runs across the street towards them. He’s wearing nothing but jorts and rectangle wire frame glasses. 

The reporters are narrating and explaining, but Kanaya barely registers what they say. The shirtless man deters the thief by… flexing? No, that can’t be it. Kanaya looks closer and realizes that his muscles are so oiled up that at close range they blinded the other guy long enough to get the woman's purse back. Kanaya didn’t even know that was possible. 

Then it cuts to an interview with him and, oh my god. Oh my god. That’s Jake. That’s… Rose’s friend’s… cousin? Kanaya isn’t actually sure. But she’s met him enough times to recognize his face. And now, apparently, his ripped bod. 

“What’s your name?” Asks the reporter. It’s a woman with stiff blonde hair, a grey pantsuit, and a bad tan. 

“Jake English,” says Jake. He’s grinning and looking around as if he’s never seen camera equipment or a news van before. He definitely has. 

“Jake, what exactly did you do back there to save that woman?”

“Well, she didn’t need any saving from me, only her purse did!” His laugh is the only thing that lets Kanaya know that was supposed to be a joke. The reporter looks at him uncertainly before he continues. “Well, you see, if I flex these ol’ guns at just the right angle, the glare can put a man’s peepers right out of commission! So long as I’ve greased them enough that is. The power of freshly applied sunscreen is surely nothing to sneeze at!”

Kanaya feels both bad for the reporter and embarrassed for Jake. This news story is almost as awkward as Kanaya is on a good day. How unfortunate. 

“Okay,” the reporter says, dragging out the second syllable. “Is there anything else you would like to say?” It clearly pains her to say this. 

“Oh! Yes! Shout out to my dear friend Jane Crocker, she oh so kindly gifted me with this nifty sun cream!” He brings a half empty tube of sunscreen out of his pocket and waves it in the air once before putting it back in. “What a peach, she is, I-” Jake trails off when he spots something off screen. 

What comes into the frame next is the shittiest car Kanaya’s ever seen. It’s so shitty. Jake walks over to it and props one forearm above the driver’s side window. Him and the driver exchange some words, but none of it is picked up, since they’re out of the range of the microphones. Jake darts back over to the reporter and says, “I have to dash, thank you!” With that, he gets in the backseat of whoever’s car that is and they speed off. 

Rose finally comes out of the bathroom. “What did I miss, moringa citrus?” Kanaya doesn’t respond. Instead, she lets her mouth hang slightly open with her eyebrows inched together. She makes an effort eventually. 

“Uh, I,” it was a valiant attempt, but alas, to no success. Rose waits patiently while Kanaya’s brain reboots like a 1995 windows computer. 

“Jake, blinded a man, with his muscles,” Kanaya eventually manages. 

“Jake? Did what?”

“Jane, she gave him sunscreen. He stopped a mugging, and left the interview in the, shittiest, car I have ever seen.” Rose takes a second to try and piece together what her wife just said. 

“Would you like to go to bed early tonight?” Rose asks. 

“Yeah, yeah I would.”


End file.
